


Warmth

by nikkiwrites (notgood23)



Category: Lego Ninjago
Genre: Adorable, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Light Angst, Pixane, White Day, for the ninjago valentine's day exchange on tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-25 19:20:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30093888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notgood23/pseuds/nikkiwrites
Summary: “The consciousness of love and being loved brings a warmth and richness to life that nothing else can bring.” - Oscar WildePixane :)  //Written for a valentine's day exchange on tumblr :)
Relationships: P.I.X.A.L./Zane (Ninjago)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11





	Warmth

**“The consciousness of love and being loved brings a warmth and richness to life that nothing else can bring.” - Oscar Wilde**

_Patent._

_Design sheet._

_Interview request._

_Another patent._

Pixal had been combing through documents when she noticed.

She had taken a slight glance away from her work, one gathered from the very edge of her peripheral vision. Although, she could not say the same of Zane, for his gaze, from all the way across the room, proved to be unwavering and quite obvious to her.

Pixal continued regardless, pulling open the filing cabinet, before setting aside the paperwork in their respective folders. All sorted in alphabetical order, no less.

She still felt that he was looking at her, so it was no surprise to her that when she had finished, and looked up, she met his gaze directly. Neither of them looked away, resulting in an odd sort of staring match between the two,

She stood from her spot at the desk, her hands automatically linking together at the front.

“May I ask you something?”

Zane slightly raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“Why are you staring at me?”

Zane, as if finally realizing what he’d been doing, blinked, then frowned. “Oh. My apologies, I have been told by Kai that it is rude to stare.”

Pixal moved away from the desk, and pushed in the chair neatly before walking over to where he was standing, next to to one of the wide windows in the office.

Only Zane had come by today, she noticed. And she hadn’t yet asked him where the others were. However, she could guess to what they may be doing in the city. The weather was optimal, and it was nearing the end of the week. Meanwhile, it had just been another day in the office for her, as usual.

That is, until Zane arrived. Pixal had only met him a few days ago, yet he seemed to come in daily since then. She didn’t really know why, considering all she ever did was work.

“I do not find it strange. Or rude. I was merely inquiring on why.” She responded.

Instead of answering, Zane turned to look out the window.

Pixal followed his example. Careful not to touch the glass, she too, peered out the window. New Ninjago City remained bustling as always with cars and buses driving by, while people walked down the adjacent sidewalks.

She watched carefully. Silently.

She cocked her head to the side before speaking again.

“I think it might be nice. Walking around, like them. Looking like a real person.”

There was no sadness to her voice. After all, it was merely an observation.

“You look like them.” Pixal said, matter-of-factly. “There is no visible circuitry to be found on your face plate, and your eyes do not glow brightly. Is that nice?”

Zane didn’t answer her.

She raised a hand, about to touch the glass when she stopped, and pulled it back down to her side.

“I look different. And even though we are the same, I am still different. Is that why you stare?”

She could tell Zane had started watching her again, but this time she really did ignore it.

“That is alright. It is not uncommon,” she paused. “I must return to my work now, or you see I begin to speak rather personally.” Pixal said, before turning away from her spot at the window.

“You are very beautiful.”

Pixal stopped, before turning around to face Zane once more. After his sudden comment, Pixal noted that he had an odd expression that she could not immediately decipher. His cheeks began to glow a natural shade of red, and she could not decide whether he appeared to embarrassed or determined.

“I have heard that I have an interesting design choice. Yet, I’m unfamiliar with the the term beautiful. Does it mean the same?”

“It means that you do not need to look like other people.”

Pixal watched as Zane slowly stepped towards her. He reached out his hand, and gently laid it upon her cheek. She was immediately surprised at the warmth found in his touch, and the internal response her processor was generating. She did not know what it was, but the feeling was very nice.

“You do not need to look like everybody else, for me - or for anybody to recognize your beauty.” Zane finished, a small smile on his face.

Pixal tended not to smile very often, but the situation, she thought, was very appropriate.

When the time came, much later, for Pixal to create her own body, she realized how much power she truly held to do so. She had not only the ability, but the choice to change anything she wanted about herself.

In a way, it was terrifying.

Remembering Zane’s words to her from long ago, and the warmth and truth that they held, she moved forward.

.

.

.

Holding hands, she thinks, is much more than a simple gesture. It didn’t mean just one thing. In many contexts, it proved to mean much more.

Like many other things that she was unaccustomed with, Zane helped introduce it to her. And, when he was gone, it had undoubtedly been one of the things that she missed the most.

During that time, she quickly came to realize that holding your own hand did not have the same effect.

It was a long time before it happened again. Fate had a way with teasing them, it seemed. For once they reunited she could still not feel the simple touch due to being in his head.

Now that they were _both_ physically present, the small comfort returned.

In the moments where their goodbyes needed to be quick before they split to their respective battles, he holds her hand, gives it a squeeze, and looks at her in a way in which the words are spoken by his eyes.

_Stay safe._

Then, he steps back until he eventually lets go, his fingertips brushing against hers in farewell.

Pixal is never the one to let go first. And as she climbs into the mech, she finds herself whispering a “you too”.

Other times, she ends up using it like a tether.

In the time that she’s known Zane, the one thing that has never changed about him was his ultimate devotion in protecting others. So much so that he often puts himself second, which as she’s seen many times, proves to be dangerous.

Just because it isn’t unusual, doesn’t make it any less frightening to her. In the times where Zane is there, but _isn’t,_ lying still in the med bay upon a cool metal table that is not comfortable at all, she’s there, holding his hand, making silent promises in her own head.

Even though she knows he is not online, she continues to hold his hand, providing the only source of comfort she can give in this situation. She knows Zane would do much more for her than she can begin to fathom, and she wants him to know that she can, too.

One day, she thinks. There will be no more scary moments like these. One day, she will not have to hold his hand with the context of fear behind it. 

The next time, she finally says what she has been thinking out loud. 

The brief goodbye is carried out normally, but this time, as Zane pulls away, she reaches out again, pulling him back a step. 

“Wait - Zane.” 

He looks at her, the mask already up and over his face. 

She takes a breath.

“I love you. Please come back to me in one piece.” 

He moves forward, wrapping her in one last hug.

“Of course.” He whispers into her ear. 

And again, she watches as he races off, and she can’t help but feel the nervousness web away this time as she climbs into the mech, and slowly become replaced by the familiar warmth.

One day. 

.

.

.

She knows.

It’s a feeling she can’t quite describe, but it’s there, nestled in her chest, somewhere between ache and instinct. The feeling gradually wakes her up, similarly to morning sunlight shining through glass window panes. Faint, but growing stronger.

Pixal brings herself out of bed, making the quiet walk in the dark to his door. It is the dead of night and she can detect snoring coming from the other rooms and its occupants. Once she reaches his room, only three doors down from her own, she gently pushes the door open.

In the dark, all she can see is his eyes, and she waits by the door as he makes room for her. His movements are hurried, and even though she cannot see his face, she knows the stressed and panicked expression that is inevitably sketched upon his features. 

The room is undeniably cold, although this time there is no thin coating of ice to be found anywhere. Or, at least, not yet.

She walks over to the bed in the middle of the room before climbing in, and Zane can barely wait for her to fix the covers over the both of them. He reaches for her, and Pixal pulls him closer. They stay silent as he lays his head on her chest.

She reflects on the days following his return from the Never Realm, where the situation had been the opposite. Back then, she had just been so happy to be so close to him, to _feel_ him again.

Her nightmares were over. But Zane’s were just beginning.

A moment passed before Pixal moves again, gently raising her hand to dispel the frost that had begun to form in his hair. She runs her hand through it gently, and is relieved when her sensors detect the temperature is slowly returning back to normal.

It had become some sort of unspoken routine as of late. Tonight has been easier than others, as every time is different. This time, she just needed to be there for him. To hold him close and let him know that she is there.

When she looks down again, she’s happy to see that he’d fallen back asleep. The worry slowly fading away from her chest, as it was over for now. With her, he would never be cold again. Only warm.

And if Zane decided to speak about it in the morning when they woke, she’d be more than willing to listen.

.

.

.

It is a nice day, Pixal thinks to herself. 

Throughout the years, she finds that gift-giving holidays had never really been of much importance to them. Being a part of the team and reflecting on all the missions she’s been on, has really instilled a belief that people are more important to her than any item imaginable. 

Despite always reminding Zane, and further insistence that she did not want or need anything materialistic, he had always gifted her a small intricate box of chocolates for White Day each year. 

And Pixal had to admit, that despite not needing to eat much, she could never resist the sweet taste of chocolate. 

The scenario would always play out the same. Zane would present her with the box, and she’d keep offering until he would take some as well.

But even then, she found that her favorite part of each and every White Day was the ability to spend time together. No interruptions from the others, no need to rush off to another battle. As if this day was labeled just for them in the calendar of fate to be left completely undisturbed. And it was just the way she liked it. 

This time, things played out a _little_ differently. 

The cherry blossom tree had been a favorite spot of hers. There was a stone bench big enough for the both of them to sit comfortably upon, and the shade was perfect in shielding them from the sun. It was there that they spent many times simply enjoying each other’s company.

Pixal popped a chocolate in her mouth before leaning on Zane’s shoulder. She linked an arm with his as she began to focus on the small soft ribbon in her hands, carefully twirling it around her fingers. The box of chocolates it had come from set upon Zane’s lap. 

The chocolates were as delicious as always, evidenced by only one half remaining.

She couldn’t help but feel absolutely content, as the sky slowly turned pink.

Pixal closed her eyes, focusing on the warmth she felt in her chest.

“Pixal,” said Zane, his voice breaking the comfortable silence held between the both of them.

"Hm?” She hummed, her eyes still closed.

“I.” He paused for a moment, and Pixal could only wonder what he was about to say next.

“I think I want to be with you forever.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Pixal instantly opened her eyes, and sat up. 

“What?” she asks, almost in a whisper of disbelief.

Zane immediately stiffened, a blue blush beginning to emanate from his cheeks. It reminded her of the nervous nindroid that had been the first person to tell her she was beautiful all those years ago.

At his sudden movement, Pixal stopped the box from toppling over, the remaining chocolates saved from reaching the ground. 

“I-I mean. What I was trying to say was that, I _know_ I want to be with you forever.”

Pixal’s mouth opened slightly in surprise, before she slowly felt a smile beginning to form. "Is that so?”

“Yes.” Zane said, a little more calmly this time, perhaps in response to her growing reaction. “Of course, only - only if you want to too?” 

Pixal didn’t think about it for longer than a second. 

Zane had changed her life since the first time she met him. He had been with her always, and never let her forget that her own thoughts - her own decisions mattered more than anybody else’s. He had brought a warmth that she had never felt before and could no longer live without. And for that she remained grateful. 

She knew the lives they were living, and promises were hard to keep under their circumstances. But the fact that Zane was promising her a forever, no matter how long it might be, meant the world to her.

She didn’t know whether forever meant one hundred more days or one hundred more years. But, to spend the rest of it with Zane sounded perfect enough to her. 

Pixal sets the box of chocolates aside, and scoots closer to him. She could tell he was eagerly and _carefully_ waiting for her response. 

Slowly, she moves her face closer to his, and closes her eyes as she kisses him. 

She wraps her arms around his neck before pulling away, touching her forehead to his. She feels an immense warmth shared between the both of them, and through her smile, she finally gives him an answer. 

“I would not have it any other way.”


End file.
